


outrun them

by edgeofthewall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Nerve, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-12 01:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7915105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgeofthewall/pseuds/edgeofthewall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny Weasley has always been poor and when an opportunity to give her family everything they deserve presents itself, it’s hard to resist. Blaine Zabini has more money than he knows what to do with, so he signs up to be a watcher. A certain player grabs his attention. (Nerve AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	outrun them

**Author's Note:**

> i'm trash for blinny and trash for nerve so. here we are now! a situation where a teacher is obsessed with a student is very briefly mentioned so watch out for that. violence is implied.

“I just want to go on record and say that this is a terrible idea. I know you’re not going to listen to me, but I want that to be out there.”

Ginny ignored Neville, pointedly dipping a fry into the glob of ketchup on her plate. Silence stretched on for a moment and once he realized she wasn’t going to respond, he continued. “Seriously, Gin. It’s just rich people with nothing to do, taking advantage of adrenaline junkies and-“

“And willing to spend all their money if I do a few stupid dares,” Ginny cut him off, speaking around a mouthful of fries, using the sleeve of her worn hoodie to wipe the crumbs off her chin.

Luna seemed like she wasn’t paying attention, buried in a book with no writing indicating what it was though Ginny was almost positive she was reading it upside down, but she spoke up suddenly.

“I think Nerve sounds like it could be kind of fun in the right context. I wonder what they would dare me to do.” She paused for a moment, clearly mulling it over. “I don’t particularly care for the bottom of the ocean. I suppose they could dare me to go there.”

“You know, normally I would say that seems pretty unlikely they would dare you to do that, but these people are crazy enough. I’m serious Ginny, I really don’t think you should do this.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, abandoning her own empty plate of fries to reach across the table and steal some of Neville’s instead. Neville and Luna were her best friends, but they just didn’t understand what it was like to be truly poor. Neville came from old money and Luna’s dad had made a fortune in the magazine business. And Ginny was just… poor.

She didn’t resent the way she’d grown up. There was always food on the table and clothes on her back, and the way they were worn and old didn’t bother her. Her pricey college textbooks were secondhand and her education was funded by a soccer scholarship. Ginny had never shopped anywhere but a thrift store and spending more than five dollars on a shirt made her nauseous.

But then Nerve happened. She thought it was a joke at first. How was it possible that a bunch of rich people had funded a glorified version of truth or dare right under the nose of authorities? She eventually found the website, and it all seemed pretty simple. Members called watchers paid money to follow members called players as they did dares for cash. Watchers paid to watch, players played to win. It was so maddeningly simple that Ginny started imagining herself as a player, earning money that she could use to help her parents pay off the car, the house, the debts.

“I appreciate your concern, Neville, I truly do. But what’s the worst that can happen? If something’s too crazy, I bail and then I don’t get the money. Then I’m still broke and nothing has changed.”

Neville still looked unsure but Ginny had already made up her mind. She slid out of the booth, waving goodbye to her two best friends. Outside, she hopped on her bike and started off to her dorm to change and signup to start doing dares.

* * *

“You’re going tonight, right Blaise?”

The voice startled Blaise out of his book, not having realized someone had even sat across from him. He looked up, eyes landing on a dark haired girl with a soft face he thought he might recognize if he saw it under the haze of alcohol. He was pretty sure they went to the same parties, but he wasn’t often sober at those.

“What am I going to?”

Draco looked up now too, finally pulling himself out of whatever novel he was texting to that Hermione girl he pretended he wasn’t totally gone for long enough to acknowledge his best friend was sitting beside him.

“The Nerve party, I’m assuming. Right, Pansy?”

Pansy. That was her name. She nodded in confirmation, dark red lips pulling up into a smirk. “We’re going to pick a new player and try and get them all the way to the final. Any money that can be contributed would be great. The more they get paid, the more motivated they are.”

Blaise resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose. Though he came from wealth and he was more than happy to live in luxury, money was still something he didn’t like to talk about. It always brought knowing stares in his direction, those who read the tabloids about his beautiful mother who was on her seventh husband and couldn’t be linked to any of the mysterious deaths of the six before him. They looked at him with disdain, or sympathy, and really, he didn’t know which was worse.

“Seems mildly manipulative.”

“Yeah, and that’s more effort than Zabini’s willing to exert,” Draco chimed in.

“How’s Hermione, Malfoy?”

Scowling at him, Draco went back to his text and Blaise turned his attention back to Pansy. He’d heard of Nerve, but the whole concept seemed a little weird to him. If he wanted to give people money to act like idiots, he could just go to one of the campus lacrosse games every now and then.

“Come on Blaise, it’ll be fun. You can even help me pick the player.”

“I’m honored, truly.”

Ignoring his sarcasm, Pansy stood. “I’ll see you tonight. Later, Malfoy.”

Malfoy nodded in response, pressing send on his text and turning his full attention to his best friend.

“May as well go, right? It’s not like we have anything better to do on a Tuesday night.”

Blaise disagreed, thinking just about anything else would be more entertaining, but he simply shrugged, knowing Draco would drag him no matter how he felt about it.

* * *

Ginny was ready. She’d agreed to Nerve’s terms and conditions. If she bailed, she didn’t get any money. She had to record herself doing everything. Nerve was allowed to access her personal information so her dares could be more personalized. No snitching. Simple.

Her username had been automatically assigned as Gin_72.

Her long red hair was pulled into a slick ponytail, and, unsure of what to expect from the night, she’d dressed in her favorite soccer warm-ups, a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt with her team nickname emblazoned on the back: WIDOWMAKER. It was a long running joke, a reference to how intense she looked when she sprinted across the field, kicking the ball like it had wronged her.

The texts from Neville asking her not to go through with this went unanswered as she set off into the chilly New York night, waiting to see what the watchers had in store for her.

* * *

“They all look so boring,” Pansy sighed, and Blaise couldn’t say he disagreed. Nobody had jumped out at them yet and so far it looked like the Nerve party wouldn’t be much of a success. That didn’t surprise him; the idea of all of them sitting around a TV and on their phones all night didn’t sound like a party, regardless of how many kegs there were.

“Just pick someone random,” Draco suggested, also clearly bored.

“That’s not any fun,” Pansy scoffed, scrolling through a little faster now.

“Wait!” Blaise said suddenly, and Pansy stopped scrolling. “Go back a couple.”

She obliged, scrolling back up until Blaise told her to stop on a user named Gin_72. She was showing her reflection in a bathroom mirror, turned so you could see what the back of her soccer shirt said: WIDOWMAKER. Feeling a strange sort of pang in his stomach, Blaise studied her flaming red ponytail, her freckled, pale skin, and then she was speaking.

“I’m wearing this shirt in the hopes it will make me seem way tougher than I am. And because I have nothing better to do while I wait for dares.”

Her voice was enough to convince him. It was a little deeper than he expected, but soft, gentle, like everything she said could comfort him.

“What about her?” Blaise asked, his voice steady.

Pansy shrugged. “It’s the only suggestion we’ve got so far. Everyone okay with this one?”

There was a murmur of agreement, and within minutes, after reading her profile, they’d sent Gin_72 a dare.

* * *

Ginny’s phone pinged as she wandered the streets of the city, alerting her to her first dare. Butterflies formed in her stomach as she read it: **CLIMB TO THE ROOF - $200.**

She looked up at the building she was currently stopped outside. It appeared to be an apartment building, and she could only assume it was the one they were referencing. A few watchers were nearby, their phones pointed in her direction.

Shrugging, Ginny hooked her phone into the armband on her bicep, turning it slightly so the camera had a good view of the streets below as she hoisted herself up onto the fire escape and started to climb. It was a fairly easy journey, her athleticism keeping her from wearing out as she climbed flight after flight past various people in their apartments until she reached the roof. Swinging her leg over the ledge, Ginny hopped onto the concrete neatly, smiling when her phone told her the dare had been completed.

“Thanks, rich people,” she said as she turned the camera toward her, smile wide and happy.

* * *

The dare had simply been a test, and it was obvious she was fairly athletic. She was barely winded when she reached the top, though her cheeks had flushed, a brilliant clash with the shade of her hair. Blaise was a little fascinated.

“Send her another one,” he urged quietly.

Pansy obliged.

* * *

The watchers had clearly taken a liking to her. They sent her all over the city, scaling buildings, jumping across various roofs, climbing on top of a delivery truck and riding it across the city. They even had her dine and dash, though Ginny wrote an IOU on the back of the receipt before running off into the night. And so far, she’d earned herself almost five thousand dollars. The thought made her heart clench, imagining what she could do with that money.

She made sarcastic commentary during all her dares, and it pulled in an audience, an audience that clearly wanted her to succeed. She wasn’t sure what to expect in the final, but she had a hunch she could at least make it there, giving her a chance to keep all the money.

Another dare came through, and she read it, letting out a laugh as she did.

**STREAK IN YOUR UNDERWEAR THROUGH TRUMP TOWER: $10,000**

The amount offered made her stop laughing. That was more money than she’d ever encountered in her life, and just looking at the amount made her a little dizzy. So of course she had to do it.

* * *

Blaise didn’t like this dare. It was one thing to have picked her because he couldn’t help imagining what a love bite would look like on the pale, gentle curve of her neck, but to actually watch her strip down was a bit much.

She seemed more than willing though, stepping into Trump Tower like she belonged there and locking herself in the bathroom. The rest of her skin was just as pale and freckled, defined muscles poking out from what seemed like acres of smooth skin. He saw now why she was doing this. Her bra was worn, her underwear a generic brand, her sneakers tattered and secondhand.

She had a smooth pink scar just above her hipbone, and he wanted to trace it with his fingers instead of his eyes.

Speaking into the camera now, she looked completely unashamed. “If I get caught by security, someone please bring me clothes to whatever jail I end up in. Thanks.”

There were multiple angles during any of her dares now, watchers following her through the city. He caught a full body shot as she stepped out of the bathroom and started sprinting across the lobby, security immediately following after her, but she was too fast. She made it to the door with ease, bursting out into the streets in her underwear and with her backpack, letting out a giddy laugh.

“Ten thousand dollars, motherfuckers!”

Blaise let out a laugh with the rest of the group, before it was cut short by someone else sending her a dare.

**EGG TOM’S HOUSE: $3,000**

“Who’s Tom?” he heard Pansy ask, looking around to see who had sent that dare. Everyone in the room seemed just as confused as he was, and a quick glance at everyone’s phone confirmed someone else had sent her the dare.

Blaise looked up at the screen again. She (he really wish he knew her name) hadn’t noticed yet, dressing again in a convenience store bathroom. When she did notice, the bright smile on her face slid off so quickly that he almost forgot it had even been there.

“I bail,” she said firmly into the camera, and disappointed groans echoed around him, but Blaise was already on his feet.

He knew where that convenience store was.

* * *

Ginny sat on a bench at the park across the street, only slightly mourning the loss of the money she’d earned throughout the night. She knew Nerve was going to access her personal information, but she hadn’t realized that would include police reports. It was too close to things now, too close to home, and it wasn’t worth the money.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there when someone approached. He was tall, all sharp edges and dark skin, his cheekbones casting a shadow onto the rest of his face, drawing her attention firmly to his eyes.

“You bailed,” he said by way of greeting, and Ginny shrugged.

“You were watching,” she responded. She vaguely recognized him from school. She didn’t hate rich people simply for being rich, but it always struck her that they only seemed to hang out with each other. She saw him with his blonde friend sometimes, the one Hermione was talking to and pretending she didn’t like.

He gestured to the bench, wordlessly asking if he could sit, and she allowed it, keeping her arms crossed and her backpack close in case she needed to run.

“Is Gin short for something?” he asked as he sat down, staring at the painfully bright lights of the convenience store across the street.

“Ginny.” She looked over at him now. “Did you send me any dares?”

He still didn’t look at her. “Is Ginny short for something? And yes. My… well, I wouldn’t call them friends. My acquaintances and I were sending you dares all night. Except the one about the Tom guy. I’m guessing that struck a chord?” He looked at her now. “I’m Blaise.”

Ginny shrugged. It had happened when she was eleven, and she’d gone to all the right counselors and gotten all the right help to be able to think about it without breaking down. “It’s short for Ginevra. It didn’t strike a chord, it was just personal. Nerve was getting too close to information they had no right to access.”

He didn’t answer, and the silence stretched out until Ginny broke it again. “My teacher became obsessed with me when I was eleven. He tried to kill me, got off on a technicality, still living happily at home. I have a restraining order, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to invite him back into my life by egging his house.”

Blaise nodded. “Do you think he sent it?”

Ginny snorted, and the sound startled the boy beside her, though she wasn’t embarrassed. “He’s technologically illiterate, so no. I think you and your friends gave me things to do that weren’t overly personal or invasive. Clearly others in this game don’t have the same tact.”

“I’m sorry you’re not going to get the money.”

“I’m sorry about that too, but only a little. It’s just money.”

Silence stretched between them again, and Ginny broke it first. “Why did you come find me?”

Blaise really looked at her now, actually making eye contact. He was impossible to read, impossible to interpret. He looked cold and distant, and though his voice was warm and deep, his tone was calculated, like he never wanted to give anything away.

“I wanted to.”

His tone was final, no further explanation, and Ginny accepted it without question. He spoke again.

“Well, it’s three in the morning and I’m still wired. I want pancakes.”

She stood, and he nodded, staying where he was. “You played well.”

Ginny rolled her eyes at him, holding her hand out. “Don’t be stupid. That was an invitation. Clearly you have money to spend, so you’re buying me pancakes.”

If she hadn’t been looking at his eyes, she wouldn’t have caught the surprise in them, his face so carefully guarded. It vanished quickly, and he nodded again, taking her offered hand and standing. He towered over her and Ginny kind of liked it, even if as far as first meetings went, this one was pretty weird.

“So you have nerve even when money isn’t at stake, even when the cameras are off.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement, and it made her smile, made warmth flood her tired body from her toes to her head.

“You have no idea.”


End file.
